Foe or Friend?
by romatomate
Summary: During the last world meeting Arthur noticed that Francis had been acting very off. Something has been troubling the Frenchman, and while Arthur does not want to find out what, it's his duty to take care of his old friend. -FrUk One shot-


England left the world meeting unsettled. _France was acting awfully odd,_ he thought to himself as he waved for a taxi, _he didn't try to insult me once, and ignored every shot I took at him_. One pulled over and the Brit got in and gave the name of the hotel he was staying at. Once Arthur was settled in the back seat he pulled out his phone and sent a quick text to France.

"Hey Frog" England's phone vibrated and he read the new message.

 _"What."_

* * *

 _What an unusual response,_ England thought for a moment then replied.

"Want to grab a drink?"

 _"No. I'm busy."_ England felt a twist in his stomach. Bluntly refusing to go out was an odd behavior from his old friend. Even odder to the Brit was the lack of emotion in the texts, the lack of emotion throughout the day actually. England surrendered his attempts and looked out the cab window at the busy street of Washington D.C.

"Damn," England muttered, combing his tangled hair, "Unruly, wild idiot- eh hair..." England sighed and put down his brush. He glared at himself in the mirror, "Whatever." The blonde man turned to sit on the hotel bed when a wine bottle passed into his vision. _If he doesn't want to go drinking, I can bring the drinking to him,_ England thought with a small snicker. He picked the bottle off the desk and looked it over. America had one sent to each country. "He sure has cash to waste..." England then picked up his phone and sent a message to France.

"What room are you in?"

 _"Imm bnot in a rppm"_ England stared at his phone for a moment, his face turning red.

"YOU IDIOT YOU'RE DRUNK OFF YOUR ARSE! ARE YOU NOT? I INVITED YOU TO DRINK AND INSTEAD OF ACCEPTING IT YOU GO OFF ON YOUR OWN HOW DARE YOU."

 _"Oh noo poore litle black shwwp ov york, ooooooooooohhhh noo."_

"WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU? I WANT TO GIVE YOU A PIECE OF MY MIND"

 _"beeinf nioce for once. givving andf shajring. how odf."_

England took a deep breath to calm himself down. Something was bothering France and he was determined to find out what.

"Just tell me where you are so I can pick you up. You're obviously too drunk to function."

 _"Ive show yu funkshon"_ Before the Brit could think of a response another message was sent. _"Hello, um, the French guy here is being really disruptive and has reached his max on drinks." "I was going to call a cab, but he was yelling about some guy wanting to show up and take him to a haunted hotel. If you would be so kind as to come and take him, that's be great." "This is Lapin, right?"_

"Actually it's Arthur, but yeah that's me. Where are you? I'll pick him up right now." England grabbed his coat and wallet and went out to the front of the hotel.

 _"Bar Dupont. Im giving him the phone back now."_ The blonde man nodded and hailed a taxi.

"The Bar Dupont please."

England walked into the bar and immediately spotted France. He obviously had not returned to the hotel considering he was still wearing his suit, though it was far less crisp now, and he had his brief case under the bar stool.

"Zere 'e *hic* iz," France slurred, his accent heavier than normal.

"C'mon, Francis. We're leaving. Now." England walked up to France briskly and reached for France's hand.

"Non! Ez mine."

A tall, female, brown haired bar tender came up to them, "Oh thank God! Are you Arthur?"

England nodded, "Yes, uh, I assume he hasn't paid his tab." He pulled out his wallet and handed the lady a credit card, "Just charge it on this." She nodded and rushed to the cash register.

"Francis we are going back to the hotel." England glared at the drunk man before moving to grab the others arm again.

France pulled it back with a laugh, "Ah ah ah, toooo slow."

England groaned and picked up France's brief case, "Stop acting like a child. The meter in the cab is still running, I'm already paying for your drinks, and you're sitting here being ungrateful."

"Well, nobody *hic* azked you to come!"

"Actually," the bar tender had returned and handed England his card back, "I did. Remember?" England grabbed France's wallet out of the brief case, pulled out an US 20 dollar bill and gave it to the lady.

"I'm very sorry about him."

"Thank you and, it's alright, he isn't the worst we've had here." She smiled and went to tend to other customers.

"Alright now, lets leave." This time when England went to grab France's hand he let him. They left and sat in the back of the cab. "Back to the hotel, please." France looked out the window and started to speak French under his breath. England decided to let him be. However in a few minutes France had fallen asleep and his head had moved onto England's shoulder. The Brit sighed. _What is bothering you so much?_

"Get up," France sat up slowly and blinked, his head hurt and he had forgotten where he was. "I'm using your money to pay for the cab," England stated, rather annoyed. France blinked again and sat straight up. "Well," England asked pushing France lightly too the door, "Are you going to get out.

"Oui." France opened the cab door and without turning back walked into the hotel.

England grabbed the Frenchman's brief case and rushed after him, muttering swears. They entered the elevator quietly and England noticed that France was swaying lightly back and forth. "Don't fall asleep here," He warned, half sure that it was also the alcohol that was making the Frenchman unbalanced. Just to be sure he would not fall, England grabbed France's arm.

They reached France's floor and the blue eyed man halfheartedly led the Brit to his room. England stepped forward with the key once France realized he did not have his bag. The door clicked open and the men walked into the room. France headed straight for the bed as England set down the brief case and shut the door. The Brit followed behind the Frenchman who fell face first onto the bed. England took off the others suit jacket and work shoes before sitting on the bed next to France.

"Are you going to tell me what's been bothering you?" France did not respond. England began to rub his friend's back slowly. France grabbed a pillow and buried his face into it.

"Just go away," he ordered into the pillow.

England kept rubbing the others back and kicked off his own shoes, "No, not yet at least." He heard muffled crying and continued to rub France's back, even though the Frenchman was shaking.

"It's not fair," France sobbed and he sat up. "Why are you being nice now? Why can you not just let me be alone?"

England looked at him, confused, "Something is bothering you. I mean you're my... friend. I have to look out after you..."

France continued to sob, "Then why are you so mean? You always try to get away from me. It's not fair, I can only take so much." France dug his face into the pillow once more, "Just go away! Leave me alone!"

England was shocked. He had always assumed France had understood that he didn't hate him. He thought that he took little offense to the things said and done. "I-I..." England stopped. There was no way to explain this. He just leaned over and brought France into a tight hug. "I'm sorry." He mumbled. France moved the pillow and began to cry into England chest, "I'm sorry..." He held France until the crying had died off, and until France was asleep. England moved so that both of them were laying down, together, on the bed. He held him still, until they were both sleeping, together.


End file.
